


Expectations

by orphan_account



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They aren't close, and they don’t speak in half sentences and riddles. Except apparently they do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expectations

Glenn looks for David as the team makes their way into their hotel for the night, having not seen him since the morning training session. 

He eventually spots him in the parade of Kings XI staff streaming towards the hotel lobby; there are too many people between them for Glenn to bother forcing his way towards David, but the way he’s glancing over his shoulder every so often, frowning, intrigues Glenn.

Following David’s line of sight, all Glenn can see is Shaun and Preity walking together. It’s not an everyday sight, but it’s not unusual enough that it should be confusing David. Glenn’s intrigued, so he does the only logical thing. He creeps as close as he thinks he can get away with before tuning into their conversation.

“Have you thought about--“ Shaun is saying to Preity, not looking up from the sheets of paper clutched in his hand.

“--yes, but no,” Preity interrupts him, shaking her head, “Greece.” 

Shaun nods as if that makes perfect sense to him. "Right," he says, "There's always the ball, though."  They seem to be talking in some fractured form of English Glenn can hardly make heads or tails of. He sees why David had been confused.

“Maybe,” Preity is saying, cocking her head. She reaches ahead to open the door for Shaun, “We just have to consider…”

“Royals!” Shaun says suddenly, walking through the door without breaking step or tearing his eyes away from whatever’s fascinating him on the paper, apparently having reached some form of conclusion that's completely eluded Glenn. Priety seems to have no such trouble, pursing her lips and nodding. She grins, “Who knows Shaun, maybe you’ll get a game this season.” 

Glenn looks at Shaun's back, waiting for him to bite back at that.  

He doesn’t. Instead he just shakes his head and waves the paper around slightly, “Why don’t you just look at this,  _dear_.” Glenn pauses, wondering if he's heard that right. It might be the most surreal part of this conversation so far, and that’s saying a lot. Since when does Shaun use pet names with  _anyone_ _,_  let alone their franchise owner.

Preity hums, grabbing his bicep so she can peer over his shoulder at whatever he’s gesturing towards with his other hand, all the whilst they both keep walking. Glenn has seen plenty of weird shit in his career, especially during the IPL, but this might take the cake. Preity Zinta and Shaun Marsh are not close, and they don’t speak in half sentences and riddles. Except they do. 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts by a heavy arm swinging round his shoulders “What’s up with you mate?” Jono asks smirking, “Still upset about the game the other day? Cheer up you weren’t  _that_  shit.”

“Hey,” Glenn shoves his arm off with a glare. Shaun and Priety, in the split second Glenn's fended of Jono, have disappeared around a corner. Glenn didn't even know it was possible to disappear so fast. 

“I mean, at least you  _tried_  to hit the ball this time,” Jono is cackling, stepping back from the punch Glenn sends his way.

“Oh fuck you Mitchell Johnson.” Glenn says, rolling his eyes. He grabs Jono and heads towards the lift, though, the conversation he overheard sitting somewhere at the back of his mind.

 

 


End file.
